At least you can select your friends

My family has been especially cruel to me lately.

When I visited my sister for the New Year, she took a moment to comment on my genetic deficiencies. That moment occurred as she walked behind me into the Best Buy store. To her left walked Dude. So, to me but within earshot of of Dude she proclaims, “I am so sorry, Frizzy. When they were handing out asses you didn’t get any of it.”

I replied, “thank you for noticing, Blondie.”

I will refer to her as Blondie as long as she insists on dying her hair honey brown. I hate that color on her. So there.

She thinks my recent hand, mouth and foot infection is hysterical. I found it pretty darn inconvenient.

Between my allergies and my propensity to get sick around holidays my family refers to me as sickly.

Grandpa tried to attack me last year when I refused to stop cleaning his house. He had dementia and thought I was a stranger. I had to call an older cousin to calm him down. As we were waiting for her arrival he whispers to me, “I know all about you. I heard all about you.” I didn’t know what to make of that…….. I felt betrayed by my mother for a few days.

A few months ago, I took some friends to a bar that members of my family own to attend a cousin’s birthday party. It is the kind of bar that I would call quaint or hole in the ground. My cousin looked great in her form fitting dress, tiara and matching satin house shoes (slippers) on the dance floor. I still chuckle at how much the fuzzy part of the slippers matched the dress.

Recently, I mentioned to my aunt that I am hot all the time at work. She suggests that I may be experiencing menopause. That was just plain mean. She has been through menopause; she knows it is more than hot flashes. She could have just suggested a fan.

Once my grade school cousin yells, “What happened to your face?” at me after seeing me for the first time in months. During my 20s, changes in my medical plans meant not taking elective medications. Because of this, I had horrible acne; acne that I did not have as a teenager or a college student. I was a college grad, looking for a job with pimples all over me. It was horrible. I didn’t mind the random Mary Kay people that tried to sell their facial regime to me. Or the vitamin distributors who offered cures. Not even the ethnic vendors with their black soap. But my little cousin, she got under my skin.

On that note, I will never forget being promised that my frizzy hair would NOT be a problem in my cousin’s wedding during a phone conversation. About a week later, I received an email reading, “I want everyone to look the same to either wear curls, a flip or an up-do.”

FYI, those are completely different hair styles

The email went on to read, “You can schedule an appointment with my hair stylist. These are the costs for her services $$ hair relaxer and for a $$ trim.” A hair relaxer????? I was hot. What happened to my frizzy hair not being a problem?

The Internet makes cowards out of all of us.

Crafty Update

The hairpin lace shawl is coming along fine. I have completed the six strips. I have to link them together.